all your curves and all your edges, all your perfect imperfections
by charbrose
Summary: if destiny decided for me to look the other way, the world would never know the greatest story ever told/ or moments between nikki and aj


_a/n: this exists because msconcon does not turn down one of my ideas, ever, and because i think these two would be really cute together. also, i happen to like nikki with a rougher around the edges type like aj vs a more polished and put together type like cena or seth. the songs "the greatest story ever told" by oliver james was my primary inspiration._

 **~*~all your curves and all your edges, all your perfect imperfections~*~**

 **pairing: aj styles/nikki bella**

 **summary: if destiny decided for me to look the other way, the world would never know the greatest story ever told/ or moments between nikki and aj**

 **rating: t**

* * *

This wasn't anything either of them or anyone they knew would have ever expected, them together, like this; her curves secure in the warm embrace of his brawny arms, watching his kids chase lightening bugs [fireflies] on the sprawling acres of his property.

On paper they were so different. The type of different that made it seem like they came from separate worlds. As if they were walking two paths that would never be destined to cross.

That's the kind of different they were.

Or were they? They couldn't say they shared the same experiences on the long and winding roads of their careers. He was accepted from the first moment he stepped into the fabled squared circle. She was ridiculed. He scratched and clawed. Fifteen years of being all over the world, but never sniffing the big leagues. She did nothing but improve while being in the big leagues from day one, but it was never enough. She still had everything to prove. He had nothing to prove. His record spoke for itself. Her critics were still crowing in the back of her mind, a Greek chorus never to be silenced even after becoming the longest reigning Diva's Champion.

But they were more similar than first blush would dictate.

While his home may have been more broken than hers, she did not come from the most solid of foundations. He wore his faith on his sleeve, unapologetic, and honest. Hers was kept close; a private part of her, only a select few had the privilege to see. Family – her twin sister, his four children – was everything to them. Above all else they both held family in sacred esteem.

* * *

And to be honest, _she_ never thought she would end up here... on a, there goes a snickering giggle from her plump lips, _farm_. "What's so funny?" The gruff Southern drawl dancing in her ear, the rough scrape of stubble along the smoothness of her cheek, and it's hard not to moan and grind.

"I dunno," Sounding bored as she flicks imaginary dirt from under fingernails. "You in that repairman outfit from that music video was pretty funny. Like, seriously," Her dark eyes narrow as she scoffs. "Mr. Handy? Ew. Who was directing that video, anyway? Mr. Rogers? If you were," A low purr as she twists so they're face to face, one hand running up and down the thick muscles of his arm. "My repairman, you wouldn't be wearing that lame outfit."

"That so?" His large hand moves up and down the stretch of her thigh, and there's a smirk crossing cherry stained lips, which she licks slowly as she teases, "Come over to fix my dryer at the beach house, and we'll talk about a better outfit for you to wear."

"The dryer that works perfectly at your beach house? Is that the one you're talkin' about? Or do you got a dryer at a beach house that I don't know about?"

"Well, if you're going to be _that way_ ," Sounding put out as she turns away. "I'll give Ambrose something to do with his hands, then."

"Like hell you will." Through gritted teeth, making his accent more pronounced and the hand that was lazily moving up and down her thigh, is tight, fingers digging in and squeezing. Then his hands are everywhere, roaming, leaving no inch of her untouched before finding purpose in molding to the firmly round shape of her generous breasts. Her nipples react immediately to the familiarity of their heat and the rough callouses she can feel through the flimsy cotton of her plaid shirt. Their peaked and begging. A needy moan escapes when he squeezes them, thumbs flicking at her nipples, making her grind her ass against the front of his sweat pants.

"Fuckin' Ambrose ain't touchin' ya. Fuckin' Cena ain't. Neither is Nemeth. Rollins can wish on a freakin' shootin' star for all I care. But ain't none of 'em getting their paws on ya. All of ya... Every dang inch, every freckle, every curve...It _all_ belongs to _me_."

"Allen..." Breathless and panting and then, breaking through the intense fog of lust settling over her brain, a tiny sweet voice, "Daaaaaaaaaaady! Niiikkkkkkkkkkeeeeeee!"

"Seriously?!" The brunette bombshell hissed while the Southerner laughed under his breath. "This isn't funny!"

He stops laughing and before the sound of little feet rushing up the steps to the porch get closer, he gives a slow sweep of his thumb across her right nipple and bends his head, whispering in her ear, "I _always_ take care of ya, don't I, Nicole?"

Heat – pure, heavy unadulterated heat – blooms at the apex of her thighs. Her pussy throbs. And this ache... She almost wants to whine, to stomp her foot and pout, not unlike one of the four children she's welcomed into her life with open arms, but she resists. Only because he does always take care of her. Never has she had a lover who lavished her body with as much attention as he did. Briefly, flashes of that dark head between her legs, came to the forefront of her mind. Then it was those lips, titling boyishly, glistening... _Fuuuuuuuuck._

But easily the San Diego native regained her composure just in time to have her arms full of a teeny little girl with soft dark curls who happily latched on to her, arms winding around her neck and legs around her waist. Together they laughed and Nikki let out an exaggerated groan, "ooomf," as the impact pushed her back against Allen who secured both in his strong arms.

"Don't you still want to catch fireflies with your brothers?" Nikki questioned, fingers sifting through the familiar downy curls.

Big dark eyes from a cherubic face stared back as little dimples appeared in chipmunk cheeks while curls bounced with a shake of the three year old's head. "No. Sleepy." A heavy yawn escaping as Anney burrowed into the softness of Nikki's embrace. "Wanna story."

He knows he shouldn't, but the pure panic etched into Nikki's beautiful features, makes Allen laugh. There's a quick jab of her elbow into his stomach, and he shakes his head, swallowing down the rest of his laughter as his fingers sift through his own hair.

"I'll go upstairs and get _Harold and the..._ " Anney cuts off her father emphatically, "No go! No _Harold_! Stay, Daddy. Nikki, stay too. Tell story."

Nikki sighs, biting down on her lip, her hand moving up and down the little girl's back. She doesn't want to disappoint her. Her mother, Wendy, a school teacher probably knew a million stories. And could probably pull one out of thin air, too. Releasing the flesh of her lip, which is trembling, she starts to say, "I don't really know any..."

Then Allen's warm drawl is coming through, "No _Harold_ , huh? This ain't gonna be the best, but here goes nothin'. Once upon a time in a faraway place called Dallas, all the princes and princesses from all over the land like, Cincinnati and Pensacola and even as far as Canada came there for a ball."

A perfectly plucked chocolate brow was raised in curiosity and he gave a wink in return.

"One of the princesses..." His hand reaching over to give her right ass check a subtle squeeze. "Actually _the prettiest_ princess..."

"What does the princess look like? What's her name?" Anney interrupted, her eyes suddenly bright and wide, no longer drooping and hazy with sleep.

Nikki's heart feels light in her chest, knowing Allen is telling Anney about when they met for the first time. How he was prepping before his match against Jericho, and she was coming back after walking out to the ramp to congratulate Brie after her win on the pre-show. She vaguely hears him say "gorgeous with her hair done in curls and pretty brown eyes like yours," but her mind's already taking her back to that day.

* * *

 _Get in and get out, Nikki tells herself. Don't linger. It's only going to make things worse. The brace around her neck is heavy, more like a noose than a device to help her heal. She doesn't want anyone in her face. Doesn't want to see the pity in their eyes. She's dressed in her gear. Even her signature snapback is snug on her head, perfect ringlets flowing down her back. Fearless is stretched across her chest, but she feels anything but._

 _This was supposed to be her moment. Her time to silence the haters once and for all. She was the one who was supposed to usher in the new era of women's wrestling. To have the belt tight around her curves._

 _Everything's suddenly too much and she wants to run, and then there's a friendly drawl, "Ya girls went that way."_

 _Crystal blue eyes, chocolate hair swept to one side. Perfect teeth gleaming. Playful grin on warm lips. So boyish despite the crinkles near his eyes and the rough stubble on his cheeks. But her eyes drift lower, it's hard not to, knowing who the drawl belongs to. And she's single now, so why not take a look while she has the chance?_

 _Boyish in the grin on his handsome face, but everything below is **all** man. The dark hair dusting thickly defined pectorals, a delicious trail going across the terrain of toned abs and all of it is flanked by the rippling muscles of gorgeous arms._

" _Who says," Slipping into the familiar skin of the bombshell she's built her career on, tone flirty and thick eyelashes batting furtively. "I was looking for my girls?"_

 _A flip of hair and a rough chuckle. A shiver rolls through her curvaceous frame. "Just figured. I mean who else would ya be lookin' for round here? If you're doin' some scoutin' on Sasha, Becky and Charlotte, you might wanna," A gloved hand reaching out to tap the side of her snapback. "Look a little less inconspicuous."_

 _A heavy feeling takes over her heart and her stomach churns violently. Her eyes drift to the Dunks on her feet and she gives a long suffering sigh when they meet the crystal blue of his again. "I couldn't scout even if I wanted to," So soft she can barely hear herself. "My MRI results haven't come back yet, so I don't know if I ever will."_

" _Shit, I didn't know... I thought..."_

* * *

"But Nikki's prettier than Princess Nicole, right, Daddy?" Anney's little voice cuts through the fog of the memory. "Cause you said she was the prettiest lady in San Diego, but that's where Nikki's from, so how can that be true?"

"It's just a story, pumpkin. Corse Nikki," He brings the brunette's slender hand toward his mouth, kissing her knuckles just in time to hear a chorus of "Ewwwww! Daaaaaaaad! Stooooooooop!" from the three boys who have just shown up on the porch.

"Ewwwwwwwww?" Nikki repeats, angling herself so she and Anney are facing Ajay, Albey and Avery, her face a perfect image of theirs. "If you think that was gross, you guys better cover your eyes..."

"Naw, c'mon Nikki," Ajay grumbles. "Don't be doin' that kissy stuff. Ya'll can do that after we go to sleep. Sides we gotta string up the jars of lightenin' bugs we caught for porch lights. That's more fun than kissin'. Yuck."

"Leave Daddy and Nikki alone. They's bein' romantic." Anney speaks up, nose in the air and tone haughty.

"Nobody asked ya, Anne. You're three; whaddya know bout anything, anyway?" Avery groused, rolling his eyes. "I know lots! I can count to 10 and Nikki teached me to tie my shoes yesterday!" Anney yelped, an indignant look crossing her cherubic features.

"That's enough outta both of ya." Allen's tone was booking no argument, his chiseled jaw tickling subtly. It was so wrong... Nikki had to bite back a moan threatening to slip through her lips. This wasn't supposed to be hot. He was disciplining his kids not... But fuck there went her train of thought right off the tracks and into the gutter.

" _Told ya I **always** take care of ya, didn't I, Nicole?" Gruff and demanding. "Now you're gonna take care of me. Spread those legs, gorgeous. Fuckin' gonna remind you that this," With one powerful thrust and a needy moan spilling from her lips, he's sheathed to the hilt. "Right here," A thick finger joining his dick. "This pussy is mine. Say it."_

"Ya comin' or are ya gonna stay out here by yourself?" Draws the brunette out of her fantasy. Or well... Sort of because, ugh, he's a walking fantasy all on his own. And there's one of his hands, rough with callouses, large enough to engulf her own completely that make her feel safe and vulnerable and small, but hold her up and make her fearless at the same time, stretched out for her to take.

Easily she lets him pull her up, enjoying the way his forearm ripples from the mundane action. She feels soft against the hard planes of his thick muscles. _It's wonderful._ And there's his familiar smell surrounding her as her face falls into the crook of his neck, unable to resist breathing him in.

"Where'd ya go just now? Ya were down for the count, all zoned out not payin' attention to anything," He teases, playfully busing his nose against hers.

"Lock the bedroom door tonight." Husky and breathless, one of her slender hands sliding down from his chest to the waistband of his sweats before cupping him and giving his length a slow, lingering pump and then she's brushing past him, shapely hips swaying all the way.

He grumbles under his breath, "fuckin' tease, i'll show ya," but she's always enjoyed that. Teasing him, pushing him, bringing him to the brink and flashing a wink or an enigmatic grin. But damn if she didn't deliver when the time came.

* * *

 _you, look at you, send me one more shot/sittin' on a bathroom sink_

Allen's brows burrowed down when suddenly he heard _now my mascara runnin' red lipstick smudged/oh he so horny, yeah he wanna fuck_ coming from his phone that was shaking in his pocket, and then gritty and smug as hell right in his ear, "What would the good Christian folks at Bible Study say if they heard that sinful, devil music comin' from your phone, Jones?"

A menacing growl was let loose from deep in his chest. The twinkling steel blues and that infuriating shit-eating grin greet him. Fuckin' Ambrose. If he didn't have his family to think about, he'd haul off and punch the snot-nosed bastard once and for all.

Reaching in his pocket, he turned from the Cincinnati native just as _he popped all my buttons and he ripped my blouse/he monica luwinski'd all on my gown_ and he could feel his jaw starting to grind. She always pulled shit like this. Changing his ringtones, posting from his twitter. As he flipped the screen on his phone, there she was filling the screen, and _holy..._

Then came a low whistle of approval from behind. " _Fuck_ , Jones, you're one lucky son of a bitch. Jesus, look at those..." Whirling around, he gripped the collar of the younger man's shirt, lifting him from his feet. "Finish that sentence and I'll fuckin' risk bein' suspended for knockin' out all your teeth, boy."

Chuckling as shaggy dishwater curls were brushed away from steel blues. "Take it easy, man. I have a strict don't shit where I eat policy, so relax. Now, put me down, Bo Duke."

Dropping him to the ground, Allen didn't spare Ambrose a second glance as he turned his focus back to the screen of his phone. There she was in the master bathroom of her beach house in San Diego, sitting on the sink. She was bending over painting her toenails. Barely there lace, a warm almond that was nearly identical to her skin, molded perfectly to the perky mounds of her generous breasts. Three straps of lace – going from light almond to peach to a dusty pink – sat low on the dips of her shapely hips and there was a little bow at the front of her panties.

 _damn, you really turn me on/paintin' your toenails pink_

" _Jesus Christ_..." Growled through grinding teeth and there's her familiar musical laughter coming through the other end of the line. "So you got the picture then?" So proud of herself and he can just see her, leaning back more, preening looking like the cat that got the cream.

"You should consider yourself lucky. If I had let Ambrose continue spewin' whatever disgusting shit was gonna leave his mouth, and knocked out his teeth, I'd tan that hide of yours red and you couldn't sit for a week. You tryin' ta kill me, Nicole?!"

"Promises, promises," Her tone breezy as ever, and he knows she's flipped those golden highlighted curls over one slender shoulder, like she doesn't know just how serious he is. "I know this is a dumb question because guys could careless about panties unless they're taking them off, but seriously, boo boo..."

"Quit callin' me that!" Unfazed by his outburst, the brunette continues, "Anyway... Do you think they're cute? Like, I want your honest opinion. These are the ones that I designed for BirdeeBee, all on my own, no Brie at all, and I'm nervous cause we have models coming in tomorrow for fittings and everything, and I just... She's the creative one, y'know?" Her voice is small and faraway, almost sounding like Anney after a nightmare, and his heart lurches.

He doesn't know jack shit about clothes, give him a pair of jeans and a t-shirt any day, and he knows even less about women's underwear. But it's easy to imagine her bottom lip trembling, her chocolate eyes wide and begging for him to be honest with her. Her teeth are sinking in, he knows, she's biting nervously and he lets out a heavy breath, not wanting to disappoint her or say the wrong thing. He knows how much this line means to her and her sister. How badly she wants it to succeed.

"C'mon, Nicole, ya really want advice about panties from me? Ya know I don't know nothin' about this stuff!"

"Allen... _Please_." She begs and from her tone he knows she's full on pouting, bottom lip stuck out as far as it can go, and then his phone chimes. She sent another picture. This time, it's a full body shot, and he swears he swallows his tongue. He can see how well the strips of lace slide into the tantalizing dips of her hips. How good the firm globes of her ass look, the tiny strip of lace between them only enhancing the view. Her breasts sit perfectly in the cups of the bra. Her hair flows like a waterfall down her shoulders, the very tips of the ends dancing along the the tops of her breasts.

 _easy baby for you to say/but if i can make it just one more day_

"Ain't no model gonna look half as good," His voice rough with lust and he wishes he was there to see that shudder roll through her voluptuous frame. "Color's nice," He brings himself back, somehow, to the task at hand. "Makes ya look naked almost. Looks like I could rip those right off with my teeth..."

"As if I'd let you," Scoffing and he can see those eyes rolling. "You wouldn't have a choice. You'd be pinned to the bed, helpless, beggin' and wantin', desperate..."

" _Desperate_? _Me_? As if. We'll see who's desperate when you walk through that door tomorrow."

"Keep talkin' that big game, we'll see if you can back it up when I've got ya against the wall in the hallway and my fingers are inside of ya. You'll be soaked already... Like," His lips curl into a smirk, knowing she's got her fingers where he wants his, he can tell, she's breathless on the other end of the phone. "Ya are _right now_ , I bet. Tell me how wet ya are. How you want your fingers to be mine."

"I don't want your goddamn fingers," Unleashed from her pretty mouth like the crack of a whip. Desperate and panting. Those wonderful breasts heaving. Glowing almond skin flushed with want. "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. Allen," A pitiful whimper. "Go fucking punch Ambrose or Rollins or somebody, so you can come home for like a week. Two days isn't enough," Whining. "I need you."

"Fuck, Nicole," A heady groan as he sees the most recent picture she sent. Her hand down the front of her panties which are clinging to the wetness of her pussy. "Ya know I got ya, baby. I always take care of my woman, don't I?"

"I know..." A frustrated whine. "But I miss you. Not just the sex, but _you_. How your arms are always around me. How you _never_ let me go as soon as you walk through the door. I want to be there with you. Not stuck in San Diego or the house in Gainesville or even Phoenix with Brie and Daniel. I want to be on the road again..." A broken sob creeps in. "What if I'm not cleared? What if I wrestled my last match against Charlotte at Hell in a Cell?"

Now he wishes he was there more than ever. He imagines her slim shoulders shaking. Tears streaking down because the broken sob has dissolved into actual, full on crying. "Hey, now," His voice purposefully soft, as gentle as if he were comforting his princess after a nightmare. "You don't know if you've wrestled your last match. Don't be talkin' like that. Wait til the docs come down with an official diagnosis. Don't be puttin' that shit in ya head. And if you have wrestled you're last match, it don't mean nothin' to me. Other than it sucks that ya never walked out with me, and that it's a blow to a division slowly revolting back to old ways, but ya future's as bright as ever. Ya don't need some dang gum belt to prove your worth."

A heavy sigh. "Sometimes I feel like I do." Tiny and barely above a whisper. "When I had that butterfly _everything_ was..." A dry laugh. "Okay so everything _wasn't_ perfect, but it was like a safety blanket. I was untouchable. Now... now who knows if anyone even remembers me."

"That ain't true. Ain't nobody ever gonna forget the longest reigning Diva's Champion. Ya put ya mark on this business. Nothin's ever gonna take that away. I'll be home soon. Get some rest. I love ya."

"I love you, too. Sorry I ruined everything, boo boo."

"Ya ruined nothin'. Everybody breaks down sometimes. Ya gotta pull yaself up by ya bootstraps and get back on that horse and ride."

* * *

 _tonight it's you and i together/i'm so glad i'm your man_

It's not pinning her against the wall and his fingers aren't inside of her, but it's better... Okay, not better the only thing better than his fingers is his dick, but they're dancing in the kitchen and she's secure in the brawny strength of his arms.

"I like this," Murmured softly into the thick tendon of his neck. "We should do this more often.

"We got lucky this time around." He laughs, but the honesty in his tone is obvious. "The kids were missin' their Nana and Paw Paw, and my parents were more than willin' to take them for the weekend." His hand that was firmly at her waist drifts before finding purchase on her right ass cheek, his fingers spreading and digging in.

"I should send them flowers or a fruit basket as a thank you, then. Now... Go upstairs and put on what I've laid out on the bed for you." There's a mischievous twinkle in her deep coffee depths, one that as him raising a brow. "Ain't that supposed to be my line, baby?"

"I have a dryer that needs to be fixed. Now, scram, mister." A firm slap to his ass, which she follows with a hefty squeeze.

"Aww, hell, Nicole are ya serious?" The blush on his cheeks makes her smile. "I've never been _more_ serious. I mean..." Her eyebrows waggle up and down as she purrs, "You want to have something to do with your hands, don't you?"

"I don't need to be your repair man for my hands to find somethin' to do. Don't need ya bein' some bored housewife lookin' for a thrill. I just want ya. _Nicole Bella_. Go put on those panties you were wearin' in the pictures."

She grabs his hand sliding it up the tight spandex of her dress and murmurs, breathlessly, "Are you sure you want me to put _on_ panties?"

Just the bare lips of her pussy already damp greet his seeking fingers. "Fuck," He lets out a growl. "This whole time?"

"Since I picked you up from the airport."

 _your kiss, your pretty smile you know i'd die for/oh baby you're all i need_

"Nothin's hotter than this," Mumbled rough against the smooth skin of her stomach. "You're always so hot when we come together. I get ya like this? All worked up? And this...I love this," Blue eyes boring into her soul and she shudders. "How ya stick to me. Nothin' like seein' ya flawless skin all shiny and flushed. Ya more gorgeous than any woman has any right to be."

" _Fuck_ ," A heady moan and she feels her pussy lips contract, still aching, not ready for everything to be over just yet. " _More_ ," Whimpering and she does not care if she sounds desperate, she just wants him.

"Thought you were never desperate?" Oh, how she wants to wipe that smug smirk off his perfect lips, but who the fuck cares. "There's a first time for everything, you bastard. Allen..." Husky, whining pleading spilling off her thoroughly kissed lips.

"I can still taste ya. Fuck, Nicole, you're the best I've ever had. Ain't nobody can come close."

Her brain, which surprisingly is still functioning, wants to remind him he's only had sex with two people, _ever_. Her and his ex, but she holds her tongue. Her own history flashes before her eyes and she feels embarrassed, like she's suddenly not worthy of being in his presence, forget his bed. She starts to turn her head, her cheeks growing hotter for a completely different reason, but he stops her before she can fully turn away.

"Thought ya needed me? Thought ya wanted more?" He looks almost hurt, confusion reigning over his rugged features and her heart lurches. "I do. It's just... What you said," Biting down on her lip and twisting the flesh, peering through the fans of her velvet lashes. "About no one coming close to me, how I'm the best you've ever had. You've only slept with two people. I've slept with a lot more..."

"Ya think I care about that?" He interrupts. "It don't matter how many men have been in ya life. What matters is I'm the one that's here now."

"As if I could go back to any of them." Tenderly she pushes through the sweaty strands of his hair. "You're the one I've waited for all this time. Just think," A happy giggle. "If I hadn't seen you prepping in the hall way of the stadium at Mania... Someone else would be here, and I would be God knows where."

"Ain't none of that matters, the what ifs or whatever. What matters is we're here."

 _but if destiny decided i should look the other way/then the world would never know/the greatest story ever told_

* * *

"Oh my God, Brie! You have, like, no idea just _how_ cute she is." Brie laughed, her head shaking as she listened to Nikki gush about Anney, Allen's three year old from his first marriage. "I swear she gets bigger every time I see her. And her hair is getting longer every time. I French braided it the other day. She..." Her twin's voice goes soft. "Called me Mama Nikki."

Brie's eyes widened, her pert mouth falling open. "What?"

Nikki stabbed at her salad, taking a bite and then a sip of her sparkling water as she nodded. "Yeah.. It was..." Brie had never seen Nikki's eyes so bright. "It's like being called Auntie Coco but, like, a million times better. The boys even started doing it. They like me."

"How could they not like you? You might be as traditional as their Mom, but your heart's as big as the ocean, and that's what counts."

"I just... I mean I know they're not mine, but this is what I've always wanted..." A small choked up sob. "A family and to be a Mom, and I am."

* * *

"Hey," The familiar baritone stops her in her tracks. She doesn't come out on the road with Allen often, but it's summer and all the kids are done with school and they wanted to see their Daddy so here she is. Deep blue eyes not warm crystal are staring back at her, and can the ground just swallow her whole? Pretty, pretty please.

"Hey..." Her voice is reedy and awkward because she does not want to do this. She does not want to stare at John's chiseled face and have their bitter end come crashing back to her. But staring into the deep blues, _everything_ comes rushing back at full speed and red clouds her vision.

"That's all you can say?" She hisses, and the last thing she wants to do is cause a scene, but he's being so casual, like, he didn't rip her heart into a thousand pieces. Like she didn't sacrifice everything, her hopes and her dreams for him, for them, and it's like re-opening an old wound. Everything is fresh and angry and red all over again. "Is hey? After what you did? After how you broke my heart, John? **All you can say is hey**?"

 _"Nikki..."_ Defeated, broad shoulders slumping and then there's, "There a problem over here?"

It's so childish and straight out of a high school teen guilty pleasure flick, but she can't help but run into Allen's arms. She clutches tightly at the strength in his arms, burying her face in his neck and she takes a deep breath, breathing him in; sweat, the ocean and a splash of Old Spice. Perfection.

He engulfs her completely, like a shield. All there is, is him. And that's all she needs. Him and those four wonderful children. They're her world now. Not private jets and mansions and fancy restaurants and lavish vacations. But four wheels and X-Box and story time and coloring. Sunning on a wooden deck, not a yacht. Jumping into a woodland stream, not the crystalline waters of Bermuda.

It's everything.

* * *

 _you're my end and my beginning/even when i lose i'm winning_

It's a tough pill to swallow. Shane telling him what's going to go down at Money in the Bank. He's going to pull out the win, but there's going to be interference from Karl and Luke. He tosses the script in the garbage. That's where it belongs. Cause this is bull shit.

It doesn't help that he _does_ wanna square up with Cena. Man to man. None of this bull shit with ratings and breaking contracts in the way. He'd give up his right arm to have it out with him for real. He hasn't forgotten the way Nikki ran straight into his arms, burying her face in his neck, breathing him in so deep, how she clung to him, desperate and tight. How her curves shook. How she whimpered.

"You still win," She points out, tracing nonsense shapes along the deep grooves of his obliques. "And besides... No matter what happens in the ring, you're the real winner, anyway. At the end of the night, I'm going home with you."

"Don't talk about yourself like you're some kinda prize at a carney. You're more than that. This ain't some high school pissin' contest. I wanna square up with John cause he broke you. Cause he didn't give a damn about all the sacrifices ya made to be with him, when he didn't give up a damn thing. That ain't a relationship. Ya deserve the world, Nicole." He's so tender, gently cupping her face in the heft of his rough palms. "Ya deserve everything you've ever wanted. And I'm gonna do my damnedest to give to ya."

"You've already given me everything I could ever want. You let me into your children's lives. I'm Mama Nikki now, and what more could I ask for?"

* * *

 _no, they don't want none/no, they don't want none/they lookin' scared no they don't really want none_

"Yeah, I don't think so," Smoothly Nikki steps between Gallows and Anderson, sashaying toward the curtain. "You're gonna sit this one out, boys."

Gallows and Anderson share a look of confusion before Anderson approaches the fearless bombshell. He rubs the back of his neck, a nervous habit as he says, "Look Nikki I get it. You want to make sure John gets his, but that's why Luke and I are here. We're gonna help AJ get the win and then you guys can go back to his hotel and celebrate."

Nikki shakes her head. "I don't think _you_ get it. Do I look like I'm here to sit on the sidelines?" She performs her signature body swivel, showing off the fact that she's not dressed in her signature 'Stay Fearless' v neck and the tight fitting jeans from earlier. She's dressed... Well, from the bottom half down she's in her gear. Black lycra shorts fitting tight around her curvaceous waist and round ass. Her knee high socks are tucked into her Dunks. Accept the block lettering says Phenomenal on the right sock and One on the left. Her lace up top is covered by AJ's Phenomenal One t-shirt, cut into a v-neck and is stretched tight over her breasts.

"It's going down my way and you can either get on board or get out of my way. I've been cleared to come back and Sasha can have her little moment on RAW tomorrow, chasing off Charlotte and Dana, but I'm Nikki Fucking Bella, and chasing off that trash isn't good enough for me. So what's it gonna be boys," She crosses her arms over her chest and taps her foot impatiently. "Are you on board? Or are you getting out of my way?"

Gallows and Anderson share a long look. They know if something happens to Nikki and they could have stopped her, AJ will rip them to shreds. There won't be a reconciliation. The Club will cease to exist. But looking at the bombshell, she looks like she'd fit right in. Anderson raises his hand and his fingers form the familiar 'too sweet' signal and she does it right back to him, smile completely blinding and then Gallows is enveloping her into his hefty frame.

"Give 'em hell." Gruff but affectionate as he tousles her curls before she puts on AJ's signature hat and pushes through the curtain.

* * *

 _you can look but you can't touch/you keep dreamin' on the stars above_

 _This is going to end fair and square_ , that's all Nikki can think as she hears the roar of the crowd ringing in her ears. "Oh my God! That's Nikki Bella!" Michael Cole is screeching from ring side and all she does is blow a kiss before doing her signature flip over the ropes. It feels weird that Brie isn't by her side, and suddenly as she sets foot on the canvas, she feels nervous.

But all the nerves leave when she surveys the scene before her. The referee is laid out, inadvertently kicked when John had set Allen up for the AA and John's still covering Allen's body. Slowly she approaches, hips swaying with every step and then she's right there and kick. A solid kick, all of her weight behind the motion and right to the small of John's bare back. He groans and jerks, his hold on Allen's leg slipping.

Another kick. Then another. And another. Falling to her knees she grabs for his face, clutching his chin tight, nails digging in and scratching. "You broke my heart. I gave you _everything_ and you gave me _nothing_. Did you think I was just going to let _that_ go, John? That I was going to forget what you put me through? How I was the one who made _every sacrifice_? If you thought I'd forget, you _better_ think again."

She broke her hold on his face and shoved him head first into the mat before crawling toward Allen's prone form. Gently she shook his shoulder and whispered, as she bent to kiss his hair, "You wanted a fair fight, you wanted to square up with John man to man, well I just gave it to you, boo boo."

"Huh?" Dazed from the length of the match and the devastating AA. "You got your chance at a fair fight. Now take it." The familiar smoothness of Nikki's voice brings Allen back to the present. "Nicole?" He blinks, almost not believing she's in front of him, but he can smell amber and berries, her signature fragrance.

"Kick his ass. Make him wish he never met me."

The Styles Clash ends the match and just as the referee is about to raise Allen's hand, Nikki pushes him out of the way and does it herself. She grabs the mic from Lillian and steps toward John. Kicking him again, she tells him, "Don't even think of showing up to RAW tomorrow, John, because if you do you won't just be dealing with AJ. Gallows and Anderson will be waiting to get a piece of you, too. And don't think I'm just going to sit back and watch either. Your time's run out, so save yourself the embarrassment and run home with your tail tucked between your legs."

Dropping the mic at her feet, she reaches for Allen and presses her lips against his, initiating a steamy, passionate kiss that the crowd goes wild for.

 **~*~soundtrack~*~**

 **like a wrecking ball by eric church**

 **the greatest story ever told by oliver james**

 **all of me by john legend**

 **phenomenal aj styles' theme song**

 **you can look but you can't touch nikki bella's theme song**


End file.
